Ending the Masquerade
by KricketWilliams
Summary: Newly single, Penelope heads to a costume party at a bar, and ends up removing more than one type of mask. A halloween story- you pick the rating  you picked it-Rated M . As usual, I don't own a thing.
1. Chapter 1

**Sorry for the interruption to the other story, but I had to hit this for halloween...Posting two chapters a day, including halloween. I am going to let you pick the ending, whether or not you want it T or M-A trick or treat of sorts! Not proofread by my Harley or Jenny, purely due to time constraints, so bear with my mistakes, please!**

**Chapter 1**

AN: Dedicated to Lilblossomcub, who requested a halloween MG story. Here you go...

She stood in front of the mirror and adjusted her shiny black wig and leather mask. She didn't look anything like her usual self; she was going to floor the people at the party tonight. It was exactly what she needed. She wasn't too happy with who she was at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Penelope," Kevin had said a week ago, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I thought we were meant to be. I thought we'd be forever."

"We are," she'd replied, more out of fear than love. She hadn't wanted to be alone- a _me_ instead of an _us_. "We-"

"No, dumpling, we're not." The tears had magically disappeared, to be replaced by a tight lipped frown. "If we were forever, you wouldn't run when Derek Morgan snaps his fingers. Just the other day, when he needed help with Spicer's daughter-"

"Ellie," Pen had interjected. Kevin had had a way of making that poor little girl sound like a nonentity. It had driven Pen crazy; why hadn't he understood she was just helping a friend?

He'd rolled his eyes at her. "Whatever. The fact is: he needs you; I go on the back burner. He wants so much more than friendship from you, Penny. He always did."

"That's not true!"

Ignoring her, he'd continued, "Penelope. It's him or me. Easy decision on your behalf."

Pen remembered thinking that moment was a very poor one for Kevin to finally grow a pair. She had been so not in the mood. She'd been exhausted. The case with Spicer had taken a lot out of her, but she'd needed to be there for Derek, and for Ellie, too.

He'd taken a step closer, so that his nose was lined up with hers. "Either you chose a player who has fucked three quarters of the FBI, or you chose a man who has loved you for almost four years." His eyes narrowed under his glasses. "Make your choice."

Penelope did not take well to ultimatums. She hated them, almost as much as she hated being in this situation in the first place. She hadn't lied to herself. She'd wanted more with Derek. She'd teased him about it, and he'd teased back, but she wasn't fool enough to think he was serious.

Kevin had obviously thought differently- or maybe he was just a fool.

She'd made her decision, keeping her best friend and turning away what she'd thought to be a perfect match for her. He'd moved every trace of himself out of her apartment, and out of her life; and she'd consumed a pint of Godiva Chocolate Ice Cream.

The situation had called for dragging out the big guns.

Three weeks later, Prentiss had mentioned a Halloween bash at Daugherty's Pub. Pen had still been down, and she'd kept mum to the reason why. Mentioning her breakup would definitely bring out the inevitable question of _why_ and she wasn't ready to answer that. She'd told JJ, who no longer worked at the BAU, but still had lunch regularly with her.

And she'd kept her chin up at work, although it didn't work at all. She'd had Derek in her office, rubbing her shoulder, asking why she was so tense, begging for her to talk to him, and being so sweet, she'd started to fall for him even harder. She couldn't tell him, of all people, what happened. He'd feel bad, and awkward around her, and she didn't want that.

"It's a masquerade! It's going to be so much fun. You have to go," Prentiss had pleaded.

"I don't really-"

"C'mon!" she'd said impatiently. "No one will know who you are, it'll be an adventure. Incognito. Pleeeeeeeeease?"

When Prentiss batted her big brown eyes like she'd done at that moment, Penelope couldn't refuse.

Now, looking at her black leather clad body in the skin tight catsuit, the dark black cat eye makeup, and her hair and mask, it seemed the right thing to do. She looked damn hot, and felt very, very sexy. She didn't even recognize tonight, and tonight only, she could be someone else…

And not the woman with the impossible, incurable, and unrequited love for the hottest man in the FBI.

* * *

Penelope prowled into the pub, her black boots making little clicking noises on the tile of the entryway. The moment the doors opened, the throb of the music and flashing of the strobe lights dwarfed any outside influence.

A gargoyle barked at her. "Ten dollars, please."

Reaching into her little belt purse, she withdrew the fee and handed it to the aptly costumed door guard.

"Have fun, kitty," he said with a leer. It was only then she noticed he wasn't really wearing much of a costume!

She tried to make her way to the bar, but was thwarted by a few goblins and ghouls that hit on her, too. It made her smile, and bolstered her courage even more.

A waitress in a very skimpy French maid costume was carrying a tray of green drinks in test tubes. They had smoke coming out of them. "Want one?"

"Sure," Pen said, handing her the money for it and shooting it down. It was rather tasty, like caramel apples and something with heat behind it.

She licked her lips, then headed to the bar, where a very handsome vampire was standing.

"Hello…kitty," he said, a smile on his handsome face. He was blonde with contacts in that made his eyes a rather scary red. He was wearing a half mask over the upper part of his face, like everyone else was tonight. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"That would be purrrrrfect," she answered, playing up the part.

"What would you like?" He grinned at her. "Something with catnip?"

"A fuzzy navel would be fine," she answered. "We kitties like our furry bellies."

He laughed, then turned to order.

"I wouldn't accept drinks from just any man here, sugar," a deep and familiar voice murmured behind her. "They're all out for blood."

She turned to see the most gorgeous pirate she'd ever seen. He had on a red bandana on his head, a billowy shirt, and his usual tight black jeans, and of course, a half mask. His jaw was darkened with stubble, and he was currently flashing his perfect white teeth at her. In his ear was a diamond stud; she was taken aback by that. Did he pierce his ear?

The vampire scowled, then handed put her drink on the bar.

She smiled and lowered her voice. "Oh, I don't know, handsome. They seem nice enough." She turned back to the vampire and received her drink.

"Good choice, sweetheart," the vampire said.

She heard his chuckle as he said, "You must be new around here. I better protect you."

She almost choked on her drink. _New_ here? Did he not recognize her? She knew she looked different tonight, but Derek… he was her best friend. He_ had _to recognize her.

Her heart started beating faster and her mind started to race. If he didn't recognize her, if he didn't know, this could be something to explore, something to see, without any consequences to her. If he didn't know, she could find out things she'd always wanted to know. Like what it felt like to be wanted by Derek Morgan. What it felt like to dance with him in his slow, sexy way.

What it felt like to be kissed by him.

Dropping her voice another notch, she turned back and smiled at him. "I don't think I need the protection of a pirate."

"Oh, sweetheart, I insist. Pirate's code," he said holding up a long fingered hand, a sexy smirk gracing his lips. "We see something we like, we carry it off."

Her lips twitched. "Like some wench?"

"No, honey. Like treasure," he answered smoothly. "And I can't wait to get my hands on your booty."

She burst out laughing; it was so lame, but so cute. "Really."

"Mmm hmmm," he said, reaching for her hand and pulling her away from both the bar and the protesting vampire. "How about on the dance floor?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_AN: Here we go again...installment number two of the day...This one Harley proofread (Thanks, love!)..._

The shining, multicolored lights from the ceiling reflected on the diamond stud in his ear and on the flash of perfect white teeth he was showing her. He looked so much the pirate at that moment, she could almost smell the sea air and rum.

"Come on, pretty girl," he coaxed, his voice low and hypnotic. "Just one dance."

Penelope was lead onto the dance floor then, between the gyrating crowd of people. The music was so loud, she couldn't hear him if he'd had anything to say. She started thinking that was a good thing; the more she talked, the more he might recognize her voice, and she didn't want that to happen.

She was still looking at his back as he dragged her behind him, parting the crowds like Moses did the red sea. Except she highly doubted the red sea gave Moses the looks the women around them were shooting Derek. It made her realize exactly why she needed to keep that costume and mask on.

He turned then, and pulled her forward, resting her palm on his chest. He clasped his hand over the top of hers, caressing the back of her hand with his long thumb, the entire time giving her that slow Morgan smirk she knew so well. His other hand held hers in his warm grasp.

He slid his arm around her, splaying his hand on her low back, urging her closer as the color of his eyes darkened nearly to the black of her wig. She could feel the temperature of his skin under the silky fabric of his shirt, the hardness of his muscles just under the surface. Her heart was beating faster, far quicker than the steady beat of his heart.

Slowly, he moved that caressing hand over the sleeve that covered her arm, past her elbow, to the back of her arm, urging her hand upward to rest on his shoulder. Her palm slid smoothly over the silk, feeling each sinewy plane and hollow, bone and muscle, on it's journey.

Somehow, they were moving at the same time. She'd forgotten where she was, she was so lost in the warmth of his stare, the heat of his touch, she didn't even recognize she was dancing. He was swaying in time to the music, guiding her to the beat. He was so easy to follow. Kevin had said she was a miserable dancer; she'd stomped on his feet because she'd always tried to take the lead. That didn't seem possible with Derek-He was firmly in control.

The music changed from the faster beat to something a touch slower, a touch more primal and deep. Her heart seemed to echo the rhythm, slow and heavy, she could almost feel her blood sluicing through her veins. He took a step closer, moving her in tighter to his body, so close that they almost touched.

Of it's own volition, her hand moved to the back of his neck. He lifted her other arm up to the same spot, effectively looping her arms around him. He then lowered both of his hands to her low back, rubbing in small, concentric circles.

That throbbing beat was running through her body now; she felt flushed, hot, and somehow languid. She was breathing, trying hard to concentrate, but she simply couldn't. She could only feel, feel the even hotter temperature of his body, scorching hot against hers.

She raised her eyes to his, and he lowered his cheek down to hers, the scrape of the bristles on his jaw abrading her soft skin. He spoke clearly above the music, close to her ear. "Are you okay, beautiful? You look a little flushed."

She was glad for the low light of the club; he wouldn't be able to tell how mortified she was. Of course-she was getting turned on, and he was concerned about her welfare! Protecting her, just like he would Garcia.

What did she expect? She could dress up, change her look completely, and it wouldn't matter. A tiger never lost its stripes; she'd always be plain old Garcia to him.

"Yeah," she said, her voice more flat than she intended it to be.

"What?' he asked, leaning forward. He obviously couldn't hear a thing.

She pressed up against him to get to his ear. "Just a little hot in here."

"Oh, okay," he said. Or at least she thought that was what he said. She'd read his lips. He pressed his lips to her ear then, and said, "Let's get a drink, and head out on the balcony."

"Sounds good," she answered in his ear, leaning up against him. It was a good plan, until nature called. "Actually, I need to go to the ladies' room."

"Alright. I'll meet you out there, then."

She nodded, he headed towards the bar, and she headed towards the bathroom.

Through the throng of people, she saw someone who looked remarkably like Emily Prentiss, dressed in a mummy suit. She was sitting on the lap of a much younger, very cute man dressed as a football player.

"Em!" she called out as she got closer.

Emily looked up, and frowned for a moment, before smiling. "PG! Great costume!"

"Yours, too."

"Thanks," she said, grinning. "These boys sure like their _mummy_."

Penelope groaned. That was as bad as Derek's_ booty _joke. What was it about profilers and horseshit puns?

"Say, did you see Morgan?" she asked. "He's dressed as a pirate."

Penelope nodded. She didn't want to give anything away to Prentiss, either. "I've seen him fleetingly."

"So," Em said, taking a sip of her beer. "Find anyone to flirt with?"

Pen noticed the vampire was still at the bar. She waved at him, and he waved back. She turned to look at Prentiss. "That guy."

"Oh," Em replied, shrugging. "He looks alright for a baby bloodsucker."

Pen snorted. "About the same age as that jock you're with."

"Yeah," Prentiss remarked with an uncharacteristic giggle. "However, see that bulge between his legs? That's _not_ a from an athletic supporter!"

Penelope laughed at that, too, and chastized, "You're awful."

Emily gave her a wicked grin. "Oh, yeah!"

She shook her head. "Goodnight, Emily."

"PG, wait," she called out, reaching out and holding Pen's arm. Her gaze was earnest. "Make sure you find Derek; I know he was looking forward to seeing you."

Penelope almost rolled her eyes. Yeah, he was so looking forward to seeing her, the first woman in a catsuit drew his attention away. Although he was moving slowly with her in the catsuit, too. Maybe he knew it was her- or maybe he wasn't really that attracted?

So now was she a woman in a skin tight and sexy catsuit, flirting with a man who was destined to be her pal?

She cringed. That thought sucked.

"I will," she answered Prentiss, giving her a quick hug before she went into the bathroom.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_AN: Ooh! I am late! Please forgive me...It's my birthday, and I've been running since my big sister came over and woke me for breakfast...At 8 am...it's SATURDAY! Helloooo? So, again, my apologies...and will be posting both of todays chapters asap!...Gonna take me longer to answer reviews, sorry about that!...Now, on with the treat..._

Penelope made her way out onto the balcony of the pub. It was a chilly night; she was getting a little cold. She was sweaty from being around the throng of people, and the deep cut neckline of the catsuit, along with the bustier underneath that pushed her breasts over the top, made her feel exposed. She should've gone without the bustier. Her boobs were up by her chin.

There was only one other couple out there; she felt she was safe to adjust. She turned away from them to tug the top up a little for some more coverage. It was an effort in vain; the top slipped down to where it started anyway.

She wrapped her arms around herself to stay warm and waited for Derek to come out.

"I was wondering if you were going to stand me up," he said, emerging from the shadow in the corner. Their drinks he had ordered were on a small table decorated with a low burning candle in a pumpkin. There were two wicker chairs cozied up next to each other, making the intimate scene perfect.

"Oh! I didn't notice you there," she said. He could be quiet as a mouse...or loud as an elephant. She'd seen him both ways over the years of their friendship.

He came close to her and reached for her hands, tugging her into his embrace. He still felt furnace warm and smelled so good: spicy, a touch of something earthy and clean male. She laid her head on his chest, like she had so many times before, and took a deep breath.

For a moment, she was transported back to her office, where he'd held her and comforted her. It felt so good, so familiar.

She immediately raised her head, trying to calm her panic. She couldn't take that risk. If it felt familiar to her, maybe it did to him, too.

"Feeling better?" he murmured, his voice low. His eyes were glittering, nearly onyx in the dark, catching only the faintest glints of moon and candlelight.

She nodded as she looked away from his intense stare. "Much. Thank you."

He was rubbing her low back again, dipping his hands down teasingly to the pleather covering her ass, then back up to her low back. It felt so good, she closed her eyes, and enjoyed the stroking.

"I take it this kitty loves being petted," he murmured with a low chuckle, taking a step even closer, so that the high mounds of her breasts were pressed against his chest.

She felt herself flushing again, her breath coming faster, as the tender skin of the tops of her breasts touched the silk of his shirt. She could feel her nipples tightening as a rush of sensation washed over her. She couldn't speak, she could only nod her agreement.

"Shhh...easy," he said, gentling her like he would a frightened kitten. "Just enjoy the chemistry, sweetheart...This doesn't happen with just anyone."

She gasped and almost stepped away, but his hands held her in place, in silent encouragement. She looked in his eyes again, so dark and hypnotic, as his velvety voice began to speak again.

"Do you know what I want?" he purred as he opened his legs, urging her a little closer until she stood in between them, her belly lined up with hips. "I want to pet you...feel you with nothing covering you..."

He was making good on what he was saying. He was touching the bare skin of her collarbones with his long fingertips, trailing them up the side of her neck, looking at her with such hunger, she thought _he_ should be wearing the vampire costume. He leaned forward, and placed the lightest kiss below her ear.

His words reverberated gently on her throat, blew over her ear like a soft tropical breeze. "Do you want to touch me, too, Miss Kitty?"

He raised her hand and put it in the open neckline of his shirt, holding her hand over his furnace hot skin.

Her mouth was dry as she moved her hand over his firm pectoral muscle, brushing over the sparsely curling hair. She touched his shoulder, trailed her hand up his neck, wanting to trace all over his familiar, yet forbidden body.

A hunger filled her, an absolute need like she'd never felt before. She didn't know she could want like this! The tips of her breasts and between her legs were throbbing with her own heartbeat, and her skin felt oversensitive against her clothing.

He brought his hands up to cup her face, and she shivered with the gentle pressure of his fingers as he drew her closer into him, and lowered his mouth.

Time stood completely still, her heart ceased to beat, her breath was null. The only thing that was in existence was Derek and the magic he was weaving around her. His kiss started soft, like the brushing of angel's wings, gently exploring, touching the corners of her mouth, the bow of her upper lip.

She chased after his mouth, turning her face, trying to deepen the kiss herself, but he didn't allow it. She felt his warm smile, before he finally settled his mouth on hers.

It was as if lightening and thunder erupted within her body, a storm of pleasure causing her whole body to tingle with goose flesh. Her legs felt crucially weak; she leaned against him for support. She moaned her satisfaction, and he took advantage of her open mouth, thrusting his tongue inside, causing another explosion of pure delight.

She grasped her arms around him, trying to move closer, become one with him. At the same time, he was guiding her, molding her body against his. On and on, they exchanged kisses. He had his hands firmly clamped on her bottom, lifting her against him until she was on her tiptoes. She could feel the hard, insistent ridge of his erection pressing against her low belly, and she tore her mouth away to gasp for air.

He began to kiss her neck, trailing hot, wet kisses down the long column. She tilted her head back, giving him better access, more room to explore.

And then she heard his murmur, and it stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Oh, God...Baby Girl..."

* * *

Derek knew he'd made a big mistake. For some reason, she wasn't ready. She wasn't ready to acknowledge that he knew it was her, that he was kissing her, and he wanted her. He could tell by the way her body stiffened completely, how her temperature dropped and her body grew clammy, how her pulse started hammering erratically in her throat.

He'd known it was her the moment he saw her at the bar tonight with that blonde bozo. He'd known the tilt of her chin, the huskiness of her laugh, the rise of her magnificent breasts, the jiggle of her ass when she walked. He'd known her scent the second he stood behind her, the floral and fruit that could only be Penelope.

It was the only scent in the world that turned him instantly hard.

She couldn't hide from him. He'd know any part of her, anywhere, at any time. She was in his blood, in his heart, and in his soul, far longer than she'd realized.

But she still wasn't ready. When he finally looked at her face, he knew it. She'd turned pale, a stark contrast to the black leather of her catwoman mask. He had to think fast to get out of this one.

"Wha-what did you say?"

"I said, 'Oh, God, baby,'" he said, not lying but not exactly telling the truth. "Then I was going to say, 'Girl, you take my breath away', but you stiffened." He tilted his head and looked at her with what he hoped was an earnest expression. "Did you pull a muscle?"

She looked carefully at him, her keen eyes peering at him. He almost laughed; she'd make a terrible undercover agent. He knew those sherry brown, long lashed eyes anywhere too, no matter how much kitty makeup they had on.

Then she smiled and shook her head. "No. I just need a drink."

"Okay," he said, thinking quickly again, and coming up with a solution. He smiled at her, a devilish grin."Then we'll talk."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**AN: *Squee!* Hubby got me season five of _Criminal Minds _for one of my birthday presents...but I am not going to be home to watch it for a while. Dagnabit! LOL...Still, what a treat! Come Monday, _Exit Wounds_, here I come!...**

"Talk?" she squeaked, then swallowed and repeated the words.

He gave her a smirk. "Yeah, talk."

He moved over into the darkened corner and sat his long, rangy frame in the small wicker chair. He crossed his ankle on his knee, and reached forward for his beer.

She simply started at him for a moment. She wasn't sure what was happening. A big part of her was certain he was calling her _Baby Girl_. If he was, was he really interested in her, or just curious? Or even worse, was he playing with her, teasing and acting a part, because she was doing the same thing?

Or did he not know, and just called random women Baby Girl and Sweetheart? Her heart panged and ached. That thought hurt worse than him just teasing her.

Plus, she wasn't sure if it was a good idea _to_ talk to him. She was far more likely to give something away just talking to him like a best friend...

That was probably because he was her best friend. She almost slapped her forehead, thinking, _Duh, Garcie!_

"Come on, sweetheart," he coaxed, patting the chair across from him with his tapered fingers. "I won't bite unless you ask me to."

She had to fight back a giggle. It was such a Derek comment, it touched something inside her. Regardless of what could happen, she wanted to give this a chance. She took the seat next to him, and reached for her drink. It was a fuzzy navel, her favorite.

She looked at him skeptically. "How did you know I love fuzzy navels?"

"Easy," he drawled with a smirk. "Saw the vampire order it for you. At least it had looked like a fuzzy navel."

"Oh," she answered, then took another little sip. She thought she had him there for a moment, but now she wasn't sure again. She decided to make vague conversation. "So, what brings you here tonight?"

"I was hoping I'd find the love of my life here, tonight," he said, his eyes twinkling in the mask he was wearing.

The skeptic in her arched her brow. "Really? How's that going for you?"

He leaned closer to her and grinned. "I'd call my night a raging success."

She laughed, that same, throaty laugh she'd been doing all night. "Sure, gorgeous."

"Mmm hmm," he answered noncommittally, tipping his bottle of beer. She watched as the smooth muscles of his throat worked as he took a long pull. "How 'bout you?"

"You don't want to know about that," she said, looking away, blushing uncomfortably.

"Yes, I do," he replied, reaching down to pick up her hand from her lap. He lifted it and kissed the back of her hand, then smiled at her. "Even if you tell me it was to meet your lover."

She smirked. "Why would that be okay for you?"

He lowered his voice. "Because you'd be out here with me instead of that poor bastard, now, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm hmm," she purred with a giggle, giving him a sultry smile. "And I can guarantee that would be a good thing for you, sugar."

He chuckled and grinned. "Of that, I have no doubt, momma."

Again, she stiffened at the familiar nickname, but he didn't seem to notice her reaction.

Instead, he responded quickly again, asking, "So, are you going to tell me?"

"What?" she asked, being purposely obtuse.

"Why you came here tonight?" he replied again. "Because I don't think it's to meet your lover."

"Don't think I have one?" she asked defensively.

"No, I don't," he answered, "because no man bright enough to have you would be so stupid to let you out of his sight tonight."

She smiled softly at the compliment again. He had her feeling like she was on cloud nine tonight, so beautiful. It was going to be hard to go back to being just Penelope again. She really didn't want to...

She decided that was what she needed to tell him, her real reason for being there tonight. If there was one thing she didn't want to be pretending about, that was it.

"I came to escape," she began, taking a soft breath.

He leaned forward, taking both of her hands in his. "From what, beautiful?"

"Just…from being me, from my every day, ordinary life." She sighed, then smiled wistfully at him.

"Nothing wrong with you that I can see."

"No, there isn't," she said, and really believed it in her heart. There wasn't anything wrong with her. She was beautiful, and confident and strong. She may not have the man she wanted in life, but a lot of women had that, and were still strong.

She thought about Katherine Hepburn, Elizabeth Taylor, even Scarlett O'Hara. All strong women who didn't get to be with the man they loved. They were fine, and they were thought of as beautiful and admirable.

"So, still needing to escape?" he asked, with a smile. "Because I think that would be a huge mistake."

"Really?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Yes," he said, touching a curl in the short bobbed wig she had on. "Seeing that you're the most beautiful woman I've seen tonight by far, I am guessing under this wig and that suit lies one hell of a foundation."

She snorted. "Under this suit is a great pair of control top panties."

"Woman," he commented with a laugh, "you are something else."

"I hear that a lot," she retorted with a grin. She stirred the ice cubes in the orangy liquid in her cup, then took a little sip. "So, what is the love of your life like?"

"Around five seven without heels, tight cat suit..." He moved his fingers up to touch her pointed kitty ears. "...nice ears and tail."

"Seriously," she replied. This was an opportune moment for her to figure out what exactly Derek's type was. She'd seen him with redheads, blondes, brunettes, tall, short, thin, athletic, delicate. She'd seen him with so many women at this very pub.

"I was being serious," he answered.

"No," she said, tossing her hands up. "What's your type? I mean, you're tall, dark, and handsome, which is just about every girl's type-"

"That's nice," he said flatly. "I've already been out with just about every girl, too." He took a sip, then shrugged. "They didn't do much for me."

She started to laugh again, too lost in the conversation to hide it. "Oh, come on. Every man has his type of girl he's attracted to. Partial to blondes, redheads, big butts…what are _you_ partial to?"

"Well," he said, sitting back, stroking his chin. "I am completely impartial to hair color. That can change. Blonde, redhead, brunette, pink, purple, green-"

"Green?" she interrupted.

"If she is confident enough to carry it off, and knows she is damn sexy in it, hell, yes. I have a friend, absolutely gorgeous, who's been almost all those colors, and she really shines."

She couldn't help herself. "Sounds like you really like this friend."

His eyes warmed as he answered, "She's the best friend I've ever had."

She had to fight her eyes tearing up, and she swallowed before saying, "She's lucky to have such a devoted friend."

He grinned back at her. "She's just as devoted to me."

"What else?" she asked, stepping away from that thought. She couldn't think about their friendship, not now. However, his next comment interrupted that thinking, anyhow.

"I'm as partial as they come to really big tits."

"Ha!" she exclaimed. "Score a point for me-I got one, there."

"Oh, sweetheart," he said, leaning forward so that his masked nose nearly touched hers. "You got 'em all."

She took a quick intake of breath. "I-"

"Dark, sulty eyes, long legs, rounded hips, a soft tummy." His words were rough, yet soft like velvet, wrapping around and caressing her as he spoke. "And your ass…I want so badly to spank it, just so I can watch it jiggle."

She began to blush again, a bit embarrassed by the strong sexuality of the words, and yet her body was heating up to warmer than when she was on the dance floor. "Whew! Okay-"

He put his fingertip on her lips. "I'm not finished. These lips, ones that can say so much, make me smile on a sad day, and kiss me into oblivion. I couldn't live without these lips, Baby Girl."

She gasped, her mouth opening against his finger. "Derek-"

"It's midnight, Penelope. The time to dress up, to hide behind a mask, is over for me." He raised his hands to his mask and removed it, revealing the handsome face she'd already known was behind there.

"Question is," he asked, his eyes dark, swirling with black heat and intensity. "Are you done hiding, too?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_AN: Thanks for the reviews and the birthday well-wishes, m'dears! Next chapter is the rated T ending I originally had (Yes, sometimes I actually plan T rated endings!)...Please put in your vote for a rated M epilogue if you want it (So far, it's winning by a landslide)..._

For a moment, Penelope stared at Derek, her mouth dropped open like a fish out of water. She couldn't deal. She couldn't deal with him knowing it was her and saying all those things. It was too surreal, too crazy, too _soon..._too much of everything.

Then she whispered, "You knew?"

His smile was warm, not a trace of the teasing smirk she knew so well. "Yes, Baby Girl."

"How long?"

"The moment you walked in." He reached his fingers up to toy with the stark black wig on her head. "Not many women fill out a catsuit like you do, angel."

Penelope grimaced inwardly. Of course, she overfilled the catsuit, like a sausage stuffed in it's casing.

"It is pretty tight," she murmured apologetically. She felt she needed to say sorry to the entire bar for exposing them to her lumps and bumps.

He grinned at her, a teasing grin like he'd always had for her. "It's perfect, like a second skin. Absolutely fantastic."

She shivered. She couldn't control the chills running up and down her spine, even though she didn't feel cold at all. She kept going back to the same thing. He knew. He knew the whole night. He knew it was her, he knew it, and he still kissed her, he still said all those sexy things. She couldn't figure out why he'd done it. Was it to tease her? To toy with her? Did he really mean it? If he meant it, why now? Why didn't he-

"Cold?" he asked, enveloping her in his arms and interrupting her thoughts. She was so close to him. She could hear the words rumble as they resonated in his chest. "Better now?"

"Yes," she whispered, still shell shocked.

"Emily told me you were coming tonight. I was wondering what you'd be wearing," he said conversationally, his voice gentle and warm. He kissed the top of her head, like he always did.

"Oh, brother," she groaned. No wonder Emily kept telling her to find Morgan.

"I should've said this right away, sexy momma," he murmured, his voice dipping lower. "That is one hell of a great costume."

She snorted. "Not so great. You guessed who I was right away."

"Baby, I'd know you anywhere; your scent, your laugh, even the way you say things are all uniquely you," he replied, putting his fingertips under her chin and tilting her face to look at him. "You can't hide from me."

"Sounds kind of spooooooky," she retorted with a ghoulish giggle. "Like you're hunting me down."

"Damn straight," he answered with a grin. He arched a brow at her. "And, please, like you didn't know it was me?"

She grinned back then. "Before I even looked at you."

He laughed again, then tapped the tip of her nose with his long finger. "See? Now that's my girl."

For a moment, she'd fallen into comfortable conversation, forgetting all about what had happened, letting the potent drink and the magic of the night take over. The gesture, a simple one he'd done so many times, reminded her of who he was, what he was doing, and what the hell happened. He wasn't out there because he found her irresistible. He was out there because he knew who she was, knew she was harmless, and was teasing her, playing along with what she did, what she was doing with him.

Damn…the stuff she did!

And although the balcony was dark and dimly lit, the harsh light of reality was streaming in on her, so bright she nearly squinted. She'd dreamed herself up as some sort of siren, something he couldn't resist, and the whole time he knew.

Her…a siren for Derek Morgan? She was nearly as foolish as Kevin.

"I'm glad you're here," he murmured as he pulled her into his arms again. She could feel his lips moving against her hairline. "Prentiss wasn't sure you were coming, after what happened."

She startled again, her stomach hitting her feet. He knew about Kevin, too?

"You could've told me," he whispered softly. "I would've been there for you."

She was exceedingly glad she was still wearing her mask. She could feel the blood drain from her face. Did he know how she felt? Did he know about her crush on him? Did he kiss her because he felt sorry for her?

He did it because he pitied her.

She actually stumbled with that thought. She wished he'd just go away, or that the floor would open and swallow her whole.

"P, what's wrong?" he asked, steadying her.

"I...I need to go," she said quickly, swallowing the bile that was rising in her throat. She turned so quickly, he had to release her. She ran, tears streaming down her face, mindless of the throng of people she bumped into, and headed towards the door.

And she didn't stop when she heard him call her name.

* * *

November first was a sucky day. This year, to add insult to injury, it fell on a Monday. She almost called in to work; she didn't want to confront her demons so soon. She'd gone home, stripped out of everything she had on, especially the control top pantyhose, and scrubbed her face clean of makeup. She'd put on the rattiest pajamas she owned, and scraped her hair into an unflattering ponytail. Then she'd proceeded to eat most of a pint of Godiva Ice Cream, before crawling into bed and huddling under the covers.

She'd cried a few tears, too, for a lost dream she never should've had in the first damn place.

This morning, she knew she looked like absolute hell. Her hair was messy, she was wearing loose pajama bottoms with little stars all over them, and an old loose t-shirt. She felt so miserable, too, she seriously contemplated digging out the last container of Godiva she had.

She felt like she'd made the biggest fool of herself she ever could've last night.

Her cell phone and her answering machine were blinking madly. She knew they were Derek; she'd heard him once before she'd shut the volume off. She hadn't been in the mood for the explanations or apologies; she just wanted the memory to die away.

Walking into her bathroom, she took a quick look at herself in the mirror. She grimaced; she looked that terrible. She had reddened eyes that were somewhat swollen and she was wearing a frown, too.

The mirror must've been disappointed, too, she thought. She remembered last night, looking in the mirror, so proud and happy of what she looked like, the devilish glint of merriment in her eyes. She sighed wistfully; she did look awesome last night.

For some reason, it triggered a more resounding memory for her. She thought about herself, thought about her costume, how she'd prowled and how she'd flirted. She'd drawn a lot of very positive attention. Everyone had liked it, because she'd liked it. She'd known what she was, and she'd been proud of it.

She'd been hot, and she didn't have to take her own word for it. The looks of the men at the bar, and Derek, too, had proven that.

Especially Derek, now that she thought about it more. No man could make the comments he had and not mean them. No man could fake that much of a reaction, that much of an _erection_, and not be attracted to her. He'd wanted her. There was no doubt about it. He'd known it, known she wanted him, too, and he'd liked it.

He'd liked her, just the way she was. Not just one or two things about her, either. _Oh, sweetheart...You got 'em all._

She smiled softly, then stripped off her pajamas and climbed into her shower for an invigorating wash. After, she stepped out and dried herself, she slathered on her favorite lotion, and blew dry her hair into lovely red ringlets. She dressed in her cutest new dress, a white one with a little red jacket, and slicked on some red lipstick to match.

Feeling human again, she walked into her kitchen and started making coffee.

Enough for two.

Because if she knew her best friend-and she did-she knew he would be upset she left, worried she didn't answer, and would head here before work.

Like clockwork, there was knocking on her front door. It was early, even for a Monday, but Derek was an early riser. He ran while the birds were still sleeping. Still, it was earlier than his usual, which meant he'd been up for a long time.

She opened the door to see a rumpled, red-eyed, yet remarkably handsome Hot Stuff standing in her doorway. Poor baby. She was right; he obviously hadn't slept very well.

"Baby Girl, we need to talk," he said quickly. His forehead had a worry line and his eyebrows were pinched together in distress.

"Of course," she said, stepping aside to let him in. She felt rather guilty, not answering his calls now, especially now that she felt so deliciously wonderful about everything.

He tried toeing off his shoes, and had some difficulty with one of them. In frustration, he leaned over and ripped the other shoe off his foot, then stood back up. He ran a hand over his face, and sighed.

"Baby, I know what happened. I know what you had to think, and I want you to know, I wasn't joking. I wanted you, and I didn't do it for any other reason than that," he said in a heated rush. He looked so earnest, so upset, it touched her heart.

"I know," she said.

He frowned again, a bit taken aback. "Youknew?"

"Not then, I didn't," she answered, walking closer to him. "Not at any time last night. I didn't have enough faith in_ me _last night."

He gave her an incredulous look. "That's crazy. You were smokin' hot, last night, Baby Girl." His gaze devoured her, as he added, "Like you are now."

She grinned, feeling even more empowered, then continued, "But this morning, the more I thought, the more I realized..."

She looped her arms around his neck, and he wrapped his arms around her. "What did you realize?"

"When you said you knew me, knew me at the bar the second you saw me, and I knew you, I wanted to run," she murmured, stroking the smooth skin of the back of his head.

"No, angel," he warned, his voice throaty and low as he continued caressing her, soothing her. "No running from me."

"I was so afraid that I wasn't enough, that I wasn't what you really wanted, I didn't take a chance." She smiled, her eyes warm and loving as she gazed up at him. "But I learned we can't hide from the inevitable, Derek; our hearts know we belong together."

"Of course, silly girl."

Her lips curved in the faintest smile, as she said, "I'm not afraid now, and I'm so sorry for running away, cupcake. Can you forgive me?"

He didn't answer her with words. Instead, he lowered his mouth to hers, and began to kiss her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_AN: Thanks again for all the reviews, and Happy Halloween!..Now, here is a rated T treat, before the highly voted for rated M epilogue I am working on tonight..._

The moment Derek's lips descended on hers, a zing of electricity shot through Penelope's body, causing her toes to curl and her breath to catch in her throat. She knew that this moment was pivotal in the relationship she had always had with Derek. This would alter the way they felt about each other for the rest of their lives.

She tried vehemently to concentrate on what she was feeling, what was happening, so she could remember this for the rest of her life. Derek's warm, soft, dry lips brushing against hers, tasting, testing, in gentle exploration. The feel of his large hands splayed on her back, coaxing her towards him, almost massaging with his fingertips. The heat of his body, so much warmer than her own, barely touching the front of her body, teasingly light.

Then he shifted his mouth, increased the want and lust, and every good intention she had was shot to hell. She lost the ability to think, _completely_ lost it, and could only feel. He went from testing and tasting to commanding, deepening the kiss exponentially. She felt the delicious pressure, the sweep of his velvet tongue in the confines of her mouth, and shivers raced up her spine.

Her head was spinning, exactly like the romance novels said, just like the kisses in the movies. She didn't know those types of kisses existed- she thought Hollywood made it up to tease people into wanting more. She clung to him like an ivy vine to a pillar, wrapping her arms around his neck, curling her body closer, but not quite getting close enough.

She didn't think she would ever get close enough.

Derek wrapped his arms around Penelope tightly, molding her body against his. Dear God, she felt good! He'd always known kissing her would be the experience of a lifetime, but he'd hadn't expected what he was feeling at all.

Overwhelming, intense, remarkable, _indescribable_ feeling.

It was more than just lust, although he felt that rather acutely. The heat swimming in his body, pooling in his groin, throbbing in his cock, showed that he was feeling lust. It wasn't ordinary lust, like when he'd danced with her in the past, cuddled up with her when he really shouldn't have. This was raging fire that screamed with a caveman instinct, _Woman! Mine!_

It wasn't just protection and warmth, although he felt that, too. The tenderness that swept over him, causing him to not only hold her close, but to cradle her in his arms, was there full force. He'd die for this woman gladly, lay his life down, protect her at all costs. She'd always been uber important to him; this just bumped it up a notch.

And it wasn't just destiny. He'd known that sooner or later, he was going to kiss Penelope Garcia. Everyone at the BAU, and most of the rest of the letters in the FBI, had known that Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia really belong together. It just took awhile to get to that point in both of their heads.

So he kissed her….and he fell even more in love.

He soaked in the taste of her mouth; the taste of peaches and pure sugar, so sweet and addicting, he'd never get enough. The scent of her, warm vanilla and some wonderful flower, and the soft feel of her under his hands added to the experience. He could've stood there all day, just kissing her. Everything was perfect, touching each of his senses in the most erotic, wonderful way.

Except for hearing. There was this annoying song, a new hip-hop one he'd liked, but was completely wrong for the moment.

"D," Penelope murmured against his lips.

"Hmmm?" he murmured back, and he couldn't help but keep from giving her nipping kisses, teasing kisses.

She moaned, then said, "Hot…Stuff…"

"Hush, Baby Girl," he whispered fiercely, not wanting anything to stop this moment. "No talking."

He kissed her again, this time so strong he forgot his own name. He knew she forgot hers, too. She was limp, returning the kisses full force.

If only that annoying music-

He lifted his head as the fog began to clear. "Damn….my phone."

She smiled up at him with an exasperated grin. "I _tried_ to tell you."

He chuckled low in his throat, a self-derisive little laugh. "I got a little carried away."

"Mmm hmm," she said, her eyes twinkling.

He helped her back to standing, then reached into his pocket to answer his cell. "Morgan," he croaked out, and cleared his throat a little.

"Where are you? Have you seen Garcia? We have a case." The quick and urgent voice of Emily Prentiss filled the phone.

Derek looked at his watch and groaned. "We'll be there shortly."

"_We?_" Emily asked, her voice squeaking as it rose in volume. "What do you mean, _we_?"

Listening to Emily, there was no doubt that she knew _exactly_ what the _we_ meant. He loved Em, but she had a huge mouth. The whole BAU was going to know in a matter of moments. No hiding it now.

Good.

He simply laughed, and answered, "Talk to you soon, Emily."

Penelope had glanced at her watch when he did; she was buckling her high heeled shoe. She stood up, pushing her hair out of her face. "Ready to rock?"

When he opened the door for her, she brushed past him, giving him a quick kiss on his lips.

He smiled, and for a moment, pictured in his mind what life was going to be like for him after this.

He really liked that picture.

He quickly follwed her. "Let's roll."


	7. Chapter 7

Here you go, folks! This is sort of a birthday present for two dear reviewers of mine: **_Happy Birthday, writersblock24 _**and **_Happy Birthday, Dyallon_**! We sexy scorpios love this sort of thing! LOL :)...Whew! This is a kind of a strong one, I don't know what got into me!...well, yes I do, but still...LOL. If it's not your cuppa, don't read.

**Chapter 7- Epilogue**

**Warning: Strong Sexual Content **

Monday, October 31, 2011

"This is from the gentleman at the end of the bar," the bartender said, handing Penelope Morgan a cocktail. It was a fuzzy navel, her absolute favorite drink. She looked down and locked eyes with the dark eyes of a very handsome pirate. The overhead light glinted off the diamond stud in his ear. He raised his glass in salute to her; she blushed and nodded her appreciation.

She watched as he stood and walked over to her, like a panther on the prowl. She felt that was oddly fitting- she was wearing part of her catsuit, after all. Her heartbeat started to accelerate; she willed it to calm back down. She pretended to play it cool, like she didn't notice every movement he made since the moment he walked into the bar.

"Is this seat taken?" The warm purr, like velvet on gravel, caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up.

She turned, glanced over him with her eyes, with haughty coolness. "I need to let you know; I'm taken."

He slid into the seat next to her anyway. His dark eyes glittered as he drawled, "I'm a pirate. We don't recognize boundaries."

The corners of his lips went up, revealing beautiful dimples she wanted to place her lips against. Closer up, he was even more attractive. This man broke many, many hearts in his life; she had no doubt about that.

She turned back to face the mirror behind the bar. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips pouty and red. "I don't believe I like your tone. Besides, I am taken by a wonderful man." She shot him a sultry look. "And I love him."

"That's very obvious," he commented, his perfect white teeth showing in a grin. He stood closer to her, so close she could feel the palpable electricity in the air between them. "But you can't deny you're attracted to me."

"I can't; you're a very attractive man," she murmured, looking up at him through her lashes.

His eyes flared hot, barely constrained lust flashing in the chocolate depths. "If you follow me, woman, I'll make it worth your time."

Her eyes twinkled with merriment. "I'm not certain my husband would approve."

"Oh, believe me, Baby Girl," he replied, leaning in to kiss the side of her neck. "He approves wholeheartedly."

Before she could answer, he captured her lips in a scintillating hot kiss. She didn't care the bartender was staring, she didn't care the relatively few other patrons turned to look (It was a Monday night, after all!). She needed to kiss him, as badly as he needed to kiss her.

Long moments later, when he finally pulled away, she was somewhat dazed and highly aroused. He didn't give her a chance to think; he kissed her again, pulling her off the bar stool and into his arms. When he lifted his head again, she was limp against him, and she was panting.

"Come, angel," he commanded, taking her hand and leading her out the French doors to the balcony.

It was much cooler than last year on Halloween. October in Virginia was so changeable. The surrounding air was more humid, fog rising from the pond the balcony overlooked. There was a heating lamp stationed in each corner now. The chairs in the corner of the balcony, secluded in shadow, the tiny lit pumpkin on the equally small table were the same...as were the two lovers clinging to one another.

This time, there was no real pretense. Penelope Morgan was madly in love with her husband, and he was just as in love with her.

The two stood in the middle of the balcony, the only two people braving the elements. They didn't feel the chill; they were too into one another to notice anything else. She tugged his silky shirt out of the waistband of his trousers, and coasted her hands up his lean ribcage, around to the bunching muscles on his back.

"Damn," he swore, leaning down to take possession of her neck, kissing and licking with precision, touching a particular spot that made her groan audibly. He dropped his hands to the pleather covering her bottom, pressing her intimately up against him, while he continued to nuzzle her neck.

She tried to press herself closer, mold herself nearer to him, and found that she couldn't get close enough.

Then she felt his hands slide down the zipper of her pants.

"Derek," she gasped, visibly shaking, trying to regain her control. They were outside at a bar; not the best spot for a tryst. She groaned, obviously disappointed. "We can't do this here."

He gave her a half grin and held up an unfamiliar key on a chain. "Oh, yes, sweetness, we can."

Penelope glanced around. This balcony was a special spot for them. This is where they'd realized their feelings for one another and where he'd proposed six months later. The curtains were drawn all around them; the balcony was secluded and dark.

She stepped away from him, turned up the heating control, then slid her pants completely off.

The light in Derek's eyes went from teasing to torrid in seconds. He looked his fill at her long legs, at the scrap of silk covering her mound, and her high breasts pressed upward by the bustier. Then he reached forward for her, and pulled her into his arms.

Derek buried his face between her breasts, taking a long deep breath, losing himself in the scent of her. He snaked his long tongue in between, tickling and teasing, then over the top of one high curve.

"Exquisite," he murmured against her skin, before giving the same treatment to the other side.

Gripping her waist, he tugged the bustier down just slightly, but enough to cause her breasts to tumble forward, spilling out of the fabric. The cool night air and her natural arousal caused her nipples to bead immediately. He dropped his head forward, closing his mouth over a peak.

Penelope arched forward as his teeth scraped an especially sensitive spot on her nipple. She moaned, her body beginning to quiver. Her eyes closed when he slid his other hand up her waist to cup under her breast, thumbing her nipple. He made perfect concentric circles, playing her like an instrument, plucking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

At the same time, he lowered his other hand to the top of her thong, sliding his finger along the top band, giving a playful snap of the elastic at the same time he'd nibble with his teeth. He drew that finger forward, along the top band of her panties, stopping at the already damp silky panel. He dipped that finger, along with the rest of his hand inside, stroking and petting the neat curls there. She shuddered against his fingers as he cupped her gently, intimately. He traced a finger between her lower lips, just barely brushing against her aching peak.

It was enough to cause her to gasp and shake, gripping at his shoulders, at the back of his head. She cried out as a shock of pleasure rippled over her, and yet, it wasn't nearly enough. Her body was pulsing in spasms, blissful, yet empty, aching to be filled. She groaned, barely recognizing her own voice, as she begged, "More."

Derek turned her in his arms, holding her back against his front. He brought his hands up to cup her breasts once more, before sliding them down the lengths of her arms. Gripping her wrists in his strong, dark hands, hands that gave her such pleasure, he guided her hands to the banister railing in front of her.

The position caused her to bend slightly at her waist, raising her bottom to him. She did a quick intake of breath when she felt his fingers loop under the edge of her panties, drawing them down until they fell on her booted feet. She heard the rasp of a zipper, the rustling of fabric, before she felt his hands at her waist again.

"Open your legs, sweetheart."

Derek watched as she glanced over her shoulder, the fall of her long red hair rustling down her back. He held his breath expectantly, and then had to fight a whoop of delight as she obediently stepped apart. Taking a step forward, he slid his aching, throbbing cock into the sweetest, hottest heaven he'd ever known.

He couldn't control a groan of satisfaction. She was so tight, so wet, gripping him like a velvet fist. Immediately he began sweating; it was work for him every damn time not to go crazy like a madman and pound into her, claiming her. There was no other woman on earth made especially for him; he thanked God daily for how fortunate he was.

He changed speeds, depths, teasing, torturing, making it good for both of them. Penelope deserved nothing more than the absolute best he had to give, and he made sure she got it whenever they were in bed...or in the shower...or on a table...or outside.

"Derek, please!" she cried, looking back at him again, her voice sounding frustrated with the need to climax again. "Don't stop."

At that point, it was no hold's barred for Derek. He gripped her hips, thrusting hard and deep, feeling her roll up to her tiptoes with the momentum. It was one of their favorite positions, so wild and animalistic. Although, when he thought about it, just about every position was their favorite. After a few more powerful thrusts, he felt her fall over the edge, shaking and undulating against him. Her legs were buckling; she was leaning heavily on the railing, she was so weak from her release.

Despite her protests, he withdrew, then guided her to the little table. He took a seat in the chair, then brought her forward, so that she was straddling his legs.

Slowly, she lowered herself onto his shaft, engulfing him again in her heat and wetness. He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly, letting himself regain control before any movement could happen. Just holding her so close, savoring the feel of her, was pure ecstasy.

Reaching her hands down to cup his face, Penelope leaned forward and kissed him, her mouth mating with his as her body did the same. His tongue swept into her mouth, sliding against hers in a dark dance as he gripped his hands on her bottom, helping to raise and rock her in a mutually pleasurable and perfectly delicious rhythm.

Penelope gasped against his mouth, rising on her tiptoes to rock down hard on him, feeling the deepest penetration. She wanted him to fill her whole body, her heart, her soul. He was already there; when they made love, it just made it all the more tangible.

"Come for me, baby, one more time," he ground out, grinding her hips down harder, faster. His fingers dug into her flesh as they joined together over and over.

The final release hit her as she saw a shimmering shower of stars, her cry drowned out by his primal growl. He held her so tightly, his face buried against her neck. She could feel his hot breath coming in pants, his near violent shudders, as she felt the wet warmth of his release deep inside her. Their heartbeats were in unison, sped up to match the spasms of their bodies.

They held each other tight, before she finally spoke.

"I'm glad you didn't make me wait forever."

"I'm sorry I was late," he said. "I got held up in traffic, and-"

Her finger went to his lips. "No worries. I got dressed and left you the message to meet me here. I was only waiting a few minutes."

He kissed her fingertips, then her palm. "I love you," he said, before his eyes turned wicked and he winked. "But I have to warn you: no more accepting drinks from strange men."

She cocked her head to the side. "Yeah?"

He nodded, trying to hide a grin. "Yeah."

"Sorry, sweet cheeks," she replied, stretching against him like a satisfied cat. "That pirate is one man I just can't resist."

He chuckled. "Happy first kiss anniversary, angel," he said, kissing her again.

She smiled and kissed him back. "Happy anniversary...and happy Halloween, too, my love."


End file.
